Stories

Below are stories and remembrances of time spent with Sean offered by family and friends. Use this link to share your own Sean story.

Surfing Central Coast California

This was a little quick camp/surf trip summer 2020 with Sean and a few of our friends out here. The surf conditions were terrible but it didn’t matter. Always having fun with that guy.

Jake Bagley | Friend


Sean’s first Ski Team!

Sean's First Ski Team

Spring Break Leadville

Sean hosted Noah Farr and I for spring break in Leadville around 2002 or 2003. It was not your typical spring break type of destination but who needs beaches and sun when you had Sean’s presence! He seemed to attract all the fun and light and love that was around him at all times and that was plenty. We slept on the floor in sleeping bags in the front room of his place there and I recall that there may or may not have been heat in the house at the time. We explored Leadville, his college and met a zany group of friends and people that he came to know in Colorado. I believe he moved to Leadville from Hanover and he had a great group of people that he had met there after leaving the upper valley. I was not a skier, but he convinced me to come to ski cooper and we borrowed a set of skis from his friend; it turns out they were these super long ski jumper skis which I realized were not ideal for a non-skier and I spent most of the day falling all over the place as Sean flew by me over and over. I’ll never forget the niche he carved in Leadville and the energy he carried wherever he was. I will do my best to try to evoke that energy on a daily basis. Love you, Sean.

Sam Ferm | Friend from HHS and beyond


Cheering on an old friend

Sean and I hadn’t been in touch much the past decade or so, but we did say hello occasionally online, mostly around the topic of mother nature’s beauty. In this exchange, which was the last time we ever spoke, I had just finished a difficult round of treatment for breast cancer and he reached out with a sweet note of encouragement and positivity. It really meant a lot to hear from him. He was that kind of guy: someone who would get in touch with an old friend during a tough time. May we all live up to his example. Sending my deepest condolences to the whole family.

Becca Brown | Friend


Letter to Jake Tapper at CNN

Dear Mr. Tapper,
I am addressing this email to you because you attended Dartmouth College and therefore, you may have more interest in this story than other correspondents. Specifically, I would like to address global coverage of last weekend’s Alaska helicopter accident. While it is true- and no doubt newsworthy – that a billionaire died in the crash, there were other important lives lost. I live and work in Hanover, NH and Sean McManamy grew up here. He was one of the “four other passengers” who died in the crash. He was 38-years-old. And yet, the NYT in haste to report the story of the Czech billionaire, spelled Sean’s name incorrectly, because in part, he was not the story. I have a feeling you and your audience would appreciate Sean’s story. He took the road less traveled in a college town known for producing doctors, lawyers, investment bankers and professors. He may have been the only kid at Hanover High School with no interest in attending Dartmouth College. His goal: Never work in an office. He carved his own path- studied snow science and avalanches- and rescued hikers and skiers over-powered by natural forces. He hiked Denali several times to the summit (north and south). He was loved by his friends and their parents. He was my daughter’s first boyfriend. He was larger than life- literally and figuratively. A beautiful boy who had the guts and determination to live in a way many of us only dream about. Tell this story Mr. Tapper. We need it.
Sincerely,
Elizabeth Stanton | Friend of the family
Yet Another Lawyer from Hanover


From Bluegrass to Billie

My memories of Sean go back as far as I can remember. As a family, we covered a lot of ground together–from Las Vegas to New Hampshire and Key West to Alaska. Wherever we got to meet up, Sean was an incredibly strong force of love, laughter, and connection.

In reading the many wonderful tributes by family and friends, I am reminded that Sean meant so much to so many. I know that each of our relationships was unique, special, and treasured.

Sean recognized my love for music from a very young age, and he helped expand my musical horizons growing up. I didn’t know it at the time, but music would later become my field of study and industry. His passion for a great song at the right moment was infectious. He blasted bluegrass on the way to the Dartmouth Skiway and Jay-Z while cruising in Mimi’s Oldsmobile. He even gave me my first Billie Holiday CD.

Our long chats on the porch at Moose Mountain were my favorite. Barb even said we should have our own podcast–which was, perhaps, a bit generous.

His world was the mountains and mine was music; and yet, we aligned on the transcendent power and experiences of each.

Sean nicknamed me “Busy Lizzie” when I was 3, and my promise to him is to stay busy chasing what makes us feel most alive.

I’ll be seeing you, Sean

Lizzie | Cousin


My Brother From Another Mother

I knew right when I met Sean that we were going to cause a lot of trouble together as well as do some amazing things. We just clicked instantly and the fact that we shared the same Birthday seemed to seal the deal, we were brothers… I was beyond fortunate to attend college with Sean in Leadville and we spent about everyday together in Colorado after that until he left for Alaska. I knew he wouldn’t be back, he was on to bigger and better things. I hold dear to my heart the amount of rad things we did in the outdoors as much as I cherish the times we spent at bars and around campfires drinking, laughing, and having the best conversations about where we have been and where we were going. I must say that Sean accomplished everything and more by the time he was 35. I was lucky to catch up with him around then in Las Vegas and he had this girl with him that seemed to complete his puzzle. Caitlin was the girl that could not only put up with Sean and his shenanigans, but she seemed to love him and make him smile even bigger than before if that were possible. We have always stayed in touch by phone and online and I was even lucky enough to chat with him before he left for this Alaska trip and if you asked him, there probably wasnt anything else on earth that he wanted or needed. He seemed truly happy. I take a little comfort knowing that and that he was doing something that he loved and was born to do when he was taken from us. Sean would want us to celebrate his life, and we will. I will think of him everytime I do anything in the outdoors and I will probably think of him around every campfire and everytime I drink a cocktail. I certainly love him like a brother and I am really going to miss my friend. Rest easy my brother, I will see you on a mountaintop again someday for endless powder stashes.
Love you Sean…

Mike Christenson | Lucky to be a friend…


Christmas in the East Bay

Sean was unflappable, he took life in stride with a big smile and a warm hug.
Caitlin was bringing Sean home for Christmas, we had recently moved to the east bay and were just getting to know Sean. It was his first Christmas away from his family and Hanover and we wanted to make it special, something to remember. Christmas morning we “gifted” Caitlin and Sean a spot at a hot springs in Napa. It was a great idea and they drove off with the top down and the sun shining. When they arrived home for Christmas dinner their spirits were a bit dampened. Turns out, that it is a tradition with the very old Berkeley hippie crowd to spend Christmas morning at this hot springs ….this naked hot springs, a small detail I missed when making the reservations. This was not the “memorable experience” I was going for but Sean was unfazed and left us feeling like it was all a good laugh and looking forward to our next time together.

Anne and Dave | Caitlin’s Mom and Dad


A Once If Ever Kind Of Person

Just about as long as I can remember I’ve had a badass older cousin. Someone that without always realizing it I looked up to and wanted to emulate in my own way in everything I did. Someone who I respected professionally and loved personally. Someone who embodied the culmination of a lifetime of humbling, inspiring, and challenging experiences with the warmth and openness of someone who had dedicated themselves to others.
When I think back about Sean and our myriad of interactions over the years, albeit many of them under the sometimes uncomfortable premise of “family time”, I realize more than just about anyone I know he had a natural gravitational pull to him. He pulled people in and warmed up an entire room; sometimes as simply as with a smile and sometimes as grandiose as with tales from the afar. Whenever I knew he was going to be there I immediately knew everyone was going to have more fun.
It was only later in my life that Sean and I got to spend more time together one on one; me living in a cabin only a few hundred yards away for the summer certainly helped with convenience but I think also broke down the stigma I’m sure I presented of angsty younger cousin. I cherish so much now every one of those interactions from that summer whether it was a beer on the back patio, a fire up at the “big house”, a dinner, tinkering on the car over at the barn, a spellcheck of his pre-flight safety Power-Point, or just simply a wave when we saw each other around the mountain.
Unfortunately, Sean and I never got to ski together; yet it was the topic of discussion whenever we were together. From gear, to mutual friends, to places we had each been, to things we had seen and done it was just easy to connect and talk and relate on all things ski. Even my last conversation with him a couple weeks ago was just after he had been skiing at Alyeska and met a mutual acquaintance, Chris Tatsuno, for what looked to be an epic night of skiing (Photo credit above to Tats from that night). He and I were texting while on my way to Aspen and his sole goal was making sure that I was taken care of and had all the connections I needed to –Have the absolute best possible time!– while there.
Someone special like that, who you can find common ground with without effort, while learning new things, and making jokes is a rare, if ever, kind of person and I’m beyond honored to have known you and been related to you. Many people spend their whole lives trying to experience even half of what you did by 38 not realizing the best experience of all is just getting to know someone as genuine and warm as you. I hope wherever you are now is full of endless powder, cold beers, and smiling faces. I’m gonna miss you buddy.
Love,
-Christian

Christian Avery | Cousin


Radiant

I didn’t know Sean well as I was (almost) in his parent’s generation (Keith likes to remind me the gap keeps closing) but I have to note that there are a few people you meet in life that are just radiant. Sean was one. I first met Sean at Keith and Barb’s wedding (before I ended up at 5 Olde) and you could tell he saw the world differently than most. He saw the adventures to be had, he saw the world as why not jump off a cliff into deep powder; why not paddle into a deep over-head set; why not telemark as that heel thing is just a waste of metal; why not go to Alaska; why not make the Chugach Mountains your office?
The next time I’m out telemarking and I see a great drop, I’ll be sure to look up and wink, I bet he’ll get a kick out of it.

Jeff Kerrigan | Friend of the Family


We dropped the “step” years ago

My dad and barb met in the mid-90s and were married a couple years later. At first I was sure Sean thought I was his dorky younger step-sister but I remember so specifically when Sean was introducing me to someone and said “this is my sister Nina- we dropped the ‘step’ years ago.” That is exactly who Sean was- welcoming, open-hearted and never let technicalities stand in his way. Everything I try to write sounds cliche but Sean was an incredible brother and an even better friend. We began to spend more and more time together over the past five or so years and he always gave me podcast/music/show recommendations, could cook up a meal with whatever he had in the kitchen, and had the sharpest one liners. The last time we texted was March 18th and he said “I’ll text you when I’m back from Alaska, I’m vaxed up and ready for whatever.” I’m so sad that I’ll never get to you again Sean. Thank you for being such an inspiration and making us proud.
I’m not a huge believer in signs, but after over a week of 60 degree days and sunshine, this morning I woke up to a heavy snowfall. I think that was Sean telling us “I made it!”

Nina | Sister


Funniest and kindest person ever

Spent a few summers with him as a camper. Just the most positive, kind and courageous person you’d ever meet. Absolutely hilarious. Glorious human being!

Anonymous | Mentee


The Guy’s in the “Hood”

The parents always fondly referred to it as the “Hood” but in inner-city terms, it was far from it. Never the less, Kingsford Road became the “hangout” for may Hanover Kids between the McManamy, Bacon and Venti homes, “The Triangle” as I used to call it. There were so many teenagers in and out of these houses throughout the years that it made your head spin. The “stickball” games became legendary, the parties too, and these guys played sports most notably soccer together from middle school on that led two State NHHS soccer championships. They skied, hiked, biked, basketball, you name it together as well as formed friendships and a bond that should have lasted a long lifetime. Sean, Mitch, Chris, Alex, Brian, Saul, so many great kids, too many to even list who hung out in the “Hood” and now have grown into such awesome parents and adults. I think Barb and Keith had to burn that couch in their basement when the guys graduated. And then there was, Sean! Sean was a true free spirit and both Erika and I have been so fortunate to have spent much time with him out West on so many occasions with Mitch though the years. He was our favorite. He survived their Alaska Avalanche disaster and all the other great adventures those guys dreamt up, and I just can’t believe this happened! So many great memories. It is such a loss. I can still hear Sean calling me, Mr. Bacon, even though I told him multiple times that he was old enough to call me, Tom. That was just Sean. He was an extraordinary person and great friend to my son, Mitch. He touched so many souls in a positive way, it is just so hard to imagine he is gone. In situations like this, there never is a really positive thing I can think of to say to ease the pain. But, Sean lived, really lived doing exactly what he loved every moment of his life. I will never forget his smile and his laugh.That should bring us all comfort ,and maybe a great example to follow in all our lives no matter how much time we have left! I sort of think that is a legacy Sean would embrace!
Tom and Erika

Tom and Erika Bacon | Mitch Bacon’s parents


The time Sean rescued me from a bear!

I met Sean for the first time on my honeymoon to Alaska. We took a trip to Girdwood so I could finally meet my husband Mike’s best friend since birth. The instant we met, Sean gave me a huge hug and asked me if I wanted to “bag a peak.” Honestly I had no idea what he was talking about so I tried to play it cool and go along with this plan. Unfortunately, Sean couldn’t find climbing equipment that was my size so we had to go to plan b. I was immediately relieved, and the three of us went for a walk with some beers.
As we entered the woods Sean was cursing the hippies that camped there the week before and left all of their garbage at their makeshift campsites around the trails. We walked until we found a log over a small stream and we sat and talked for hours. It was exactly how I wanted to spend the day, until a huge black bear popped out of the woods. Sean told us to stand up and talk nicely, but loudly to it. Naturally I froze and couldn’t even speak let alone stand up on a log, while Sean stood up and started yelling “I am human” to the bear. At the time I couldn’t even process how funny this was, but to this day I can’t stop laughing at the thought of Sean yelling at the bear.
Luckily, the bear disappeared back into the woods and we continued drinking. About 20 minutes later the bear came back, but this time he decided to go into the stream. We thought he was just going to cross it, but he lost his footing and started drifting out of control towards the log we were sitting on. Sean immediately slammed the glass beer bottle off the log, pointed the jaggedy end at the bear, and was ready to fight it off. (Just kidding, what really happened was the bear regained its footing and scurried off into the woods, but I like to pretend it was more exciting than that).
I will never forget that day and the huge impact Sean has had on all of us. We were especially lucky to have the chance for Sean to meet our daughter Sadie. The two of them formed a great friendship and I know she will always remember his booming laugh, great smile, and hilarious sense of humor. Rest easy my friend.
Love,
Dana

Dana Foulds | Friend


A Camp Belknap Legend

Before Sean was an iconic mountain guide, he was a summer camp legend. At Camp Belknap in Wolfeboro, NH there really are no bad cabin leaders. Any boy who finds themselves lucky enough to spend two weeks there will tell you that. But sometimes as a camper you get lucky and you get a cabin leader- the person who you will live with for those two weeks, eat three meals a day with, run through the woods with, jump into the lake with- who is truly exceptional. Sean McManamy was that summer camp leader for all of the boys who were fortunate enough to spend time in his cabin in the senior division.
He wasn’t the biggest leader at camp, but he was pretty close to it especially when his blond hair was really flowing. He wasn’t the best athlete, but he was pretty much good at every game at camp, really good. More importantly, if you needed somebody to talk to, whether you were 14 years old and homesick , or 15 and needed a male figure to confide in, or so shy that you didn’t speak much at meal time, he was your best friend, role model, confidante and Mr. cool. I have worked with some of the most amazing educators, inspirers and leaders of children and men at Camp Belknap and in schools across the country and I have never met somebody quite like McManany with the ability that he had in connecting with people and bringing out the joy. The last thing I told him years ago at the end of a Belknap summer was that he was one of the best teachers and leaders I had ever seen in my life. His eyes grew wide, he said thanks and gave me a big hug. I wish that my own children would have had the chance to meet him, I will miss him greatly.
Sam “Milkman” Goessling
Camp Belknap Senior Division leader with Sean

Sam Goessling | Friend


The Napa (hotel) Roommate

I wish I could remember what was making us laugh here, but maybe the unknown is better — there were so many things that Sean said and did that made us all laugh, all the time. This photo encapsulates how I will remember Sean best, making people belly-laugh and returning it with his own laugh .. somewhere on the spectrum of boyish giggle to grizzly bear roar.
Sean was something else. My husband Chris and I flew out to Napa for Tim and Rachel Colla’s wedding in 2015 — it was going to be our only vacation of the year as funds and time were tight with us both in school. Last minute, Chris asked, “Do you mind if Sean stays in our [hotel] room with us? He didn’t book his on time. (If I’m being honest with myself looking back, I was annoyed. Our one vacation that year, now we were three’s company with Sean?! Boy, was I wrong) from the second Sean arrived and pulled us in for a big ol’ bear hug to the moment he left, we had one of my favorite trips of all-time. Because of this rooming tripod, Sean and I spent a lot (more) time together at the wedding than we normally would have: we devoured the raw bar, we threw back more than a few too many Saintsbury pinot noirs, we cackle laughed at Saul and Alex’s most memorable wedding speeches, and finally, we slinked into the fancy day-after brunch looking like we had been run over by a bus (only brought back to life in the parking lot after, being regaled by Max’s ridiculous stories of running his family’s doggy daycare).
Chris and I are incredibly honored to have shared life with you, and forever grateful that you were able to meet our daughter Liv last winter (at one month old) — she has a fierce, unmatched spirit with a wild, raucous laugh to match, much like her Uncle Sean.

Margot Baker | Friend


Popsicles

My first memory of Sean is from the summer of ’94. We were campers in the Junior Division and it was the middle Saturday of the 2-week session. The leaders had organized a division-wide camp-out on the tennis courts. But first, a cook-out.
The menu was typical for a camp cook-out. Burgers, dogs, a splash of bug juice, and popsicles for dessert. Only he will know the reason, but McManamy wanted to save his frozen treat for later. Since food was only available during mealtime, he had to get creative. So he stashed his cherry flavored popsicle inside his pillow, placed it in direct sunlight, and went on his merry way.
A few hours later, as we were getting ready for bed, Sean let out a groan that was two-fold in its devastation. Not only had the popsicle melted all over his pillow, but more importantly, he had missed out on his chance to enjoy it. The disappointment quickly turned to laughter, and McManamy said something like, “I guess I earned that one.” Then he laid his head on the bright red, still wet pillow and went to sleep.
That was McManamy. Take it as it comes, don’t sweat the small stuff, and find the humor in life!
I lost touch with Sean about a decade ago, but that doesn’t make this news any easier. His aura was magnetic, and his genuine interest and caring for others was inspiring. The world needs more Seans, not less.
There’s a special place above for people like McManamy, with all the later-popsicles he can handle!

Andrew Miller | Friend


We have had the good fortune of being friends with Sean’s mother, Barbara Fildes, since high school. Sean and our sons are the same age. We have spent fun times together at the Rhode Island shore, our homes, and at family festivities. We have two favorite memories of Sean.
One summer when the boys were in middle school, we were on Block Island watching people parasailing. Donna offered to let all three boys try it. Two went, but Sean declined and regretted it when he saw how much fun it was. Barb used this as a teaching moment and suggested to Sean that he be more adventuresome in the future. Donna didn’t want Sean to be disappointed so she allowed all three boys to go parasailing again. I believe that day we witnessed the start of Sean’s love of extreme sports. As we all know, he went on to master several different ones in his lifetime and enjoyed a remarkable career guiding and teaching others.
The other treasured memory was of Sean and Caitlin’s wedding fiesta at Moose Mountain in July 2019. It was so much fun to celebrate the wonderful, fun loving man Sean had become and what a special, well matched couple he and Caitlin were.
Sean has left us all with special memories and taught us to enjoy life to the fullest. He was loved by many and is certainly one of the brightest stars in the heavens.

Diane Bakall Toner & Donna Jo Tortorella | Family Friends


Filling in the Gaps/Wishing for More

By far, Sean was the oldest of all my nieces and nephews, when Keith and Barb got together and formed their Kingsford Road version of the Brady Bunch, complete with the parent’s wing and kid’s wing house. I am just realizing as I write this that he graduated high school the year my daughter, Grace, was born–wow! With such a split in age, Sean was often away either at Camp Belknap working as a Camp Counselor and then eventually away at college in Colorado and then Alaska, Mexico, and California for the duration. However, between Sean’s faithful Facebooking of his adventures and Barb’s New Year’s missives, I always felt as though I knew what he was up to and generally what climate he was currently enjoying. Since his untimely passing, as I have read through the memories shared by friends and family near and far, I have felt a great sense of remorse that there was so much to Sean that I never knew and sides of him I rarely saw. My tall, quiet and somewhat shy nephew (I know seriously, not how anybody has described him!) clearly meant the world to so many people and I only had a glimpse of all that. So, while the memories shared about Sean have filled in many gaps they have also left me wishing for more time with this amazing young man who loved hard, played hard, worked hard, and could be counted on equally to create joy and laughter in those around him as he could to keep them safe and build confidence in some of the most physically and emotionally challenging situations imaginable. We had always planned to visit Alaska and see it through his eyes and spend time with Caitlin and the “Mountain Man” as my now 6′ son, Jack, named him when he was about 10, and one of the few people who could make him feel short. Besides his thatch of red-blonde hair and wild beard, I will not only remember Sean for his quiet and thoughtful kindness and most of all humility, but I will also remember the Sean who filled the dance floor at his and Caitlin’s wedding celebration two summers ago, with his warmth, humor, and loud laugh–he really did seem larger than life.


One of the first things I realized as I hungrily read all the stories and reread Sean’s posts is that I need to know more about the lingo that filled Sean’s life. Describing a great snowboarding run I often saw “shredding the gnar”, surfing in California was “chucking rincon buckets,” enjoying a “fog” around the fire, “riding Orcas” on the Turnagain Arm, and while I do understand what the reference to b*%t#@x meant from his friend Hewette I do need to hear more about how that could have been a conversation that lasted a day’s hike–seriously a whole day?!
One of the things I have always admired about Sean is that he, like Grampa, lived life on his own terms and seemingly without regret. That is not an easy feat, yet somehow Sean did it with charm, graciousness, and appreciation for those that encouraged him to take Frost’s “road less traveled,” even if it, as Barb described to me years ago, pushed her to the limits of a mother’s anxiety and worry. On top of all that, Sean was able to achieve what so few can in taking what he loved and make it his life’s work and successfully, too. Many people try this, but most find that the “job” part complicates and takes away from the passion. For Sean, I think it was just the opposite and it actually fueled his passion as he honed his skills and rose to the top of his field. (Cue climbing puns such as rose to the peak or pinnacle.) \n\nAlthough Sean and I never spent any “just us” time, there is one time we shared a moment I think only we know about. It happened one memorable Christmas when the entire Quinton, Farnham, Avery, Fildes, and McManamy clan gathered at Kingsford Road. As often happens in Hanover, we went outside late that night to return to the Hanover Inn and found that over a foot of snow had fallen during the extended Christmas present opening and overeating of the evening. Various people came and went trying to help while we dug everyone out and eventually Gringo and Grampa’s car was the last one, having arrived first and was of course parked the wrong way and deep into the driveway. As time wore on, and despite my protestations, Grampa got behind the wheel ostensibly to “warm-up” the car while we kept digging. Eventually, only Sean and I were still outside and while I cleared off the front of the car Sean was valiantly clearing a path behind the car, doing this even though he had on a cast that covered most of his arm and was in a sling as well. (Side note: I think the precipitating event might be the one where Barb revealed her usually well-hidden angst to me.) These sorts of “car stuck in the snow” issues always made English-born Grampa very tense and anxious and without warning he put the car in gear and shot backwards at high speed. For a second my heart dropped and one of those slow motion “No’s” came out as I thought for sure Sean had been run over. Amazingly, Sean with his lightning fast young reflexes leapt to the side at the last second. As Grampa careened out into the street a look passed between us of “holy shit, that was really close” and then Sean’s face split into an ear to ear grin and a guffaw of relief. In that moment I saw what so many of you experienced with Sean, as he shrugged off the near- death experience and carried on with the evening as if nothing had happened–typical Sean from what I hear.
Although we don’t talk about this much in our family, I find comfort in imagining that when our favorite people and pets leave us they go to a place that they love the most and are at their physical and emotional peak while enjoying their time free of pain and worry and looking forward to seeing us someday. For Sean, I imagine that he is with Gringo, Grampa, and Harms sitting at the dining table in a snug cabin in Alaska. Gringo is nearby making what the family called the “Full-Gringo breakfast,” while Grampa, Harms, and Sean figure out the Physics of “What the hell happened?” on a napkin. After breakfast Grampa will be sitting by the fire reading a book he will later loan to Sean and discuss at great length. Meanwhile, Sean and Harms will take Gringo for her first powder ski run in the latest equipment–most don’t know how much she loved skiing, but having learned in Southern New England in the 60’s had only skied on groomed ice with ridiculously long narrow skis and lace-up leather boots. Being claustrophobic, she would never have gotten in a helicopter, but she was an adventurer born before her time and would have loved a glorious day and the company of her eldest grandson and his fellow-guide–of course she will show them a thing or two later about fixing their car with a hairpin and piece of clothesline, but that’s a story for another day.
I also have to admit to shamelessly using Sean’s prowess as a Denali and Heliski/Powder Guide at many a party when the people around me were lauding the accomplishments of their doctor, lawyer, investment banking relatives, Sean was always my conversation-stopping “ace in the hole” as I casually dropped his “line of work” into the conversation. After all, they couldn’t share pictures of those professions in action the way I did. Yes, I was and am one proud aunt.
As I was writing this tonight I heard a song that made me think of Sean and all who are missing him so desperately.. I am sure he knew it, Dreams, by Fleetwood Mac and the line from the chorus that goes: “In the stillness of remembering what you had…”
This is going to be hard.
Love, your proud Aunt Tracy (Quinton) Farnham and family, Jack, Grace, and Paul

`Tracy (Quinton) Farnham | Aunt


Sean = Belknap

Camp Belknap is my favorite place on earth and to me Sean was the embodiment of camp. He was everyone’s favorite leader, with his energy and ability to make you laugh just be looking at you. From a cadet all the way up to LC, Sean was very much a part of every summer under the pines.
When I need help drifting off to sleep I close my eyes and go on walks around camp, always starting from the waterfront. Along the way I’m sure to come across Sean and before I know it, I’m well and off to sleep.
Thank you Sean for making everyone feel included at CB. You left an impression on me that will stay with me forever.

Bart van Tongeren | Camper – Camp Belknap


That VW Bus!

Sean and Caitlin were on the east coast in the late summer of 2010. Caitlin’s sister was getting married and we were all gathering in mid coast Maine. Sean was in a mission to find an old VW bus that he could convert into a camper. He and Caitlin would drive it across the lower forty eight and on up to Alaska in the fall.
It seemed like Sean looked in every nook, cranny and old garage from Maine to New Hampshire. Just before the wedding he returned to with his prize…. a very stripped down basic van with bench seats and a very ugly shade of brown all over. But it ran and it was amazing. Sean was grinning like he won the lottery. We all loved it! That week he drove family and friends all over as we celebrated kristen and Chris in style.
By the time Sean and Caitlin began the cross country journey, they had created a comfortable space to travel and live in. When they reached California they had replaced the water pump more then once. Dave and I caught up with them again at Yosemite. They had already been camping there for a few days and they were both excited about the opportunities for hiking and climbing.
I remember Sean as being so caught up with the majesty of Yosemite, the various physical challenges presented by the park, the history and the like minded new friends they met at the camp site. It was pure joy to see him so happy.
We had brought bags of food with us, thinking that we would stock the van for the trip through Canada. We watched as they broke down the food, recycling packaging, organizing and tucking everything away so it took up very little space. Caitlin and Sean worked as one, no words needed, they just knew how to move in that tight space and achieve their goal. When everything was cleared away, Sean smiled and told us that there would be a feast at the campsite that night. Caitlin nodded and they planned how they would share the bounty with their new friends at the family meal that night.
Sean (and Caitlin) share a generous spirit, always put good out into the world and measure reward in the friends they have made and the laughter they have shared.

Anne and Dave | Caitlin’s Mom and Dad


The Call of the Mountain

For Sean:

The sun on your face
The wind at your back
Carving new paths
and zigzagging tracks

The call of the mountain
The pull of the sea
Full of adventure
and need to be free

You lived many lives
In one single one
Brother, friend, nephew,
Husband and son

Touching so many
Both near and afar
a bright supernova
a brilliant white star

We’ll look for you now
wherever we go
The summits of mountains
and shimmering snow
The warm breeze of autumn
The oceans white foam
all the while knowing\nyou’re already home

Liz McManamy | Cousin


Cheers to all the best times

Sean taught me how to snowboard in Whistler with Aunt Barb and Doc. I was beyond excited to learn from him and knew he would be an awesome instructor given all his experience and being able to shred on both a snowboard and skis. After one bunny hill where we reviewed the “floating leaf” and the importance of avoiding the face plant, he said I was ready to roll (not sure if he meant literally or figuratively at that point). A few lifts and one gondola later, we were at the top of the Blackcomb glacier above the tree line one of the most memorable views I have seen to date. After a few spills lesson number 2 came in to link my turns. “Just turn your body and link em!” as he zoomed by taking his coined “Tequila Gun belt” approach to this specific run (not to be mistaken by the “smooth merlot” approach that he told me to take down the run). I will say he was always a great communicator and had the best lexicon of ski/snowboarding jargon of anyone I have met. It was always fun to bring these expressions back to my friends back home on our snowboarding trips and they were always huge hits. Though none of my friends knew Sean personally, they all admired him for being that dude living the good life and doing things we only dreamed of.
After a number of other snowboarding trips to fine-tune my skills with Chris, we felt we were ready for the big time to see and take on the Big White Buffalo, Alaska. Sean and Catlin hosted us for SB 2013 in Girdwood for one of the most epic snowboarding trips ever. We got to see “One Room, One Love” and meet some of their friends in Girdwood.
With both of us coming from the desert and we decided to go the Cat route to do some backcountry boarding. I still remember looking at Chris after watching Sean and Catlin drop in with ease and skill down this untouched powder that was like nothing we have ever seen before. When we were getting ready to drop in we both felt a combination of pure joy, anxiety, and an insane amount of adrenaline. We were dreaming of this trip for months and envisioned the two of us shredding hard as they do on The Art of Flight or Dark Matter. The actual execution was far from perfect on the drop as both of us might as well been on @Jerryoftheday’s highlight reel, cartwheeling down the majority of the hill followed by a classic scorpion. Truth be told none of the falls hurt because we had never ridden in that much powder before. There was one point where everyone in the group hit a jump as the run ended. Chris and I were obviously not going to have any regrets and we both let out howls as we hit the jump and quickly landed on our asses. We will never forget the laugh coming from Caitlin behind us as she found it just as hilarious as Chris and I did. The entire day was a transcendent experience that we will always remember and dream of doing again.
There are many other stories of Sean over the years that always bring smiles to my face and belts of laughter that I’ll always remember. I will miss my cousin Sean. He is always the guy I’ve always admired for who he was and the life he chose to live. I’m sure you and Mimi are having a grand old time together in heaven and I look forward to the day when we meet again. Love you, Brother.
-Mike

Mike Fildes | Cousin


Dear Sean’s Family and loved ones,
I am writing to extend my condolences to you for the loss of dear Sean. I mourn his loss with you with perhaps surprising depths since I only knew him for a brief period of time. But I vividly remember him as a student in my 9th grade English class at Hanover High School. I remember the room and where he sat and how he sat and his absolute commitment to authenticity. I cannot say that of all the students I have taught, I am afraid. His loss has affected me greatly although it obviously pales in contrast to the devastation you must be going through. The world has lost a brave and true spirit; anyone who has known who he really is will be shaken for years to come. Heroes come in many sizes and forms.
He did not suffer “bullshit” lightly and had the courage to say so. I know at first being his teacher, he saw me as an adversary. This only saddened me to think that that was the conditioning and positionality he learned in our schools. With time, we grew to better understand each other, somehow connecting through an unspoken recognition of our proscribed roles of student and teacher. Neither of us believed wholeheartedly in the game we seemed to have to play. We came to appreciate each other for that. I wish I could remember something specifically he said in class, what I remember was his daring stance to challenge bringing authentic and meaningful concerns to the fore. He played an important role in the lives of the other students; the tragedy of his loss makes real the affect this stance has had on me and I will not forget what I learned from him. I vow to continue to stand by that kind of authenticity as we must re-form and re-construct our educational systems. This is also an issue of equity.
I had the distinct pleasure to run into Sean sometime after he graduated and had become a man. I can’t remember exactly where, it might have been in the parking lot of Videostop for all I know. (Remember videos?) He said something in a passing remark that is still one of the most significant rewards I have had in my nearly 30 years in education. It was something like, you were one of the ones who got through to me. That statement from that young man who ALWAYS told his truth has meant more to me than you can ever know. Thank you for making him who he was. Thank you.
I was so glad to hear that he found a vocation in which he could explore the edges of man’s potential and reality. Nothing less could do for him.
I hold his memory and you close to my heart in the hopes that together we can construct a world and an educational system that would be worthy of a young man like Sean. Of course, after we stop grieving to the depths of our souls. Nothing less for Sean!
With a mother’s heart of love,
Madeline

Madeline Raynolds | 9th grade English teacher


McFan

At some point freshman year, shortly after I had moved to Hanover, Sean and I made some unspoken decision to become inseparable for the rest of high school. It started with an after school invitation to walk back through town to his house with him and I just never stopped going. It became my second home and Barb and Casey (and later the Quinton’s) became like family to me. We worked together at multiple jobs, played on all the same sub-varsity sports teams and even dated sisters at the same time. And oh yeah, got into TONS of trouble together. Any normal Hanover parent would’ve given up on us early on, but Barb never did. She loved us, encouraged us, defended us and took everything in stride. She’s one of the toughest people I have ever met and had more to do with Sean’s (and my) triumphs and accomplishments than she will ever know.
I came up with a few stories about Sean that I thought might be funny. Back when “shredding the gnar” meant night runs at Whaleback or family trips to Burke Mountain. They’re mostly just quirks of his that always stood out to me. Stuff that I’ll never forget and will frequently think about.

WINTER MEANT ONE THING–DIGGING SEAN’S TRUCK OUT OF SNOWBANKS
My memories from high school and beyond with Sean are at times quite hazy (I can’t imagine why), but I vividly remember how I felt when he would drive. This is because it was often terrifying. He had a late model Toyota truck, “Bessie”, that he absolutely loved. It was a faded blue, kinda loud, the body was weathered but solid and the bed was capped. “Bessie” gave him instant street cred as a mountain man in training. Driving around in it, slightly hunched over, simultaneously shifting and steering with one hand (after he broke his arm) is an image of him I have permanently ingrained in my brain. Sean had a patented move that I referred to as the “accelerate to a stop”. It was almost like he couldn’t see the color red. Or maybe he just wanted to get the whole stopping experience over with as quickly as possible. Whatever the reason, as soon as he glimpsed a red light or stop sign, “Bessie” would inevitably start to speed up. Instinctively, my right leg would straighten out and my ass would clench and rise out of the seat in a futile attempt to engage my imaginary brake. This acceleration would continue until you were certain that he had blacked out and you were both going to careen across the intersection and cause a pileup. And each time, the millisecond before I would decide to drop all pretense of bravado and just scream “red light!”, he would suddenly react and hammer the brakes, sending “Bessie” to a screeching halt. If it was winter forget about it. We must’ve slid past the stop sign and into the snowbank at the end of Rip Road a half dozen times. It became so common I stopped even trying to understand how it might’ve happened. Id’ just roll my eyes, wordlessly get out and start digging to whatever 90’s rap group was providing the soundtrack for us that day.

HE COULD CRUSH MILK
Sean’s milk consumption was otherworldly. And like an oversized baby cow, he drank it because he legitimately thought it was delicious. The conditions have to be just right for me to actually crave a glass of milk, and certainly never after physical activity. Not Sean. He’d come in off the street, reach past several actual beverages in the fridge, and down two pints of the stuff like someone just told him he had osteoporosis. I would love to have seen Barb’s milk budget. He is still the only person I have ever known to successfully drink 2 gallons of it in under an hour and not violently regurgitate it all over his shoes. I realize that entire scenario may sound ridiculous, but in the world of man-boys that accomplishment is considered legendary.

HE HAD NO DISCERNIBLE FEAR OF HEIGHTS
For Sean, anything on the Connecticut River was fair game to leap from. He once jumped off the TOP of the Thetford Bridge with Dan Guest by themselves like a couple of lunatics. They had to wear shoes so they didn’t destroy their feet on impact with the water. Sometimes we’d climb to the top of the railroad bridge and leap off into the channel. There was always a minute or two before jumping where you would just look around and take in the view. I’d sit and do it. Sean would stand and walk around on that 24-inch steel crossbeam like he was just going for a stroll down the hall to take one of his lightning poops. The most vivid memory I have of one of his jumps was the time he accidentally fell 30 feet straight down into the shallows through the tallest, deadest, branchiest, pine tree on the entire river. He was using one of the “bigger” branches as a springboard and right at the bottom of his last pre-jump bounce it snapped. Down he came, horizontally, all blond hair and flailing limbs, snapping every branch as he went. He effectively limbed the tree down one whole side. He immediately popped up out of the thigh deep water, unhurt, and it instantly became one of the 5 funniest things I have ever seen in my life. To this day, every time I’m on the water I still go and find that disfigured tree and laugh.

I could write for days about Sean but I’ll save the rest for the campfires and the cookouts. I’m heartened by the fact that the last time I saw him (at his wedding) was an exact recreation of how I had spent the last 20+ years partying with him. Late night, everyone else is asleep, a core group of us wandering the property, getting kicked out of the wine cellar by Barb (minus Sean, who had enthusiastically sent us in but wisely stayed outside) and laughing hysterically at Max’s expense. It was perfect. I’ll see you in our stories buddy.

“Peace. Love life.”

Noah Farr | Partner in crime


Sean’s Camper at Camp Belknap

Dear Caitlin and Mcmanamy Family,
I am lucky to share that Sean was my camp counselor at Camp Belknap when I was a really little kid maybe 10 years old, and I am now 29, so maybe 19 years ago. I write this with some tears in my eyes because I remember me feeling really comforted and happy in his presence as a young kid in a cabin with new people I didn’t know. Sean had a really positive happy energy with such love for live. He loved nature and was really loved by everyone at Belknap. Since I was so young I only remember his personality and not specific memories, but to see how he lived, with helicopters and snow and nature and a good partner in Caitlin, knowing him from such a long time ago, it is easy to see he was such a happy guy with all the blessings he had in life.
I just want to send a lot of love to both Caitlin and Sean’s Family. From a young camper who was impacted by Sean’s happiness and leadership nearly 20 years ago, it is easy to imagine the countless number of lives he positively impacted since then. The world was blessed to have Sean and I feel lucky to have been a small part of his successful, happy, and beautiful journey.

Sean, thank you for inspiring and showing a cabin full of kids at Belknap what it means to be happy.
With much love,
Will McDonough

Will McDonough | Sean’s Camper at Camp Belknap


Revelstruck

In February 2020 my partner and I traveled from our home in Vermont to Revelstoke for a week of skiing. On a fluke we secured two stools at the bar in the Village Idiot on a standard busy evening. Two seats to my left sat a guy whose outrageous comments increasingly drew our attention. For the next couple of hours we were entertained to no end by this fellow who turned out to be Sean. Clearly he had been drinking, as we all were, but he was in no way incapacitated. He was just funny. No, he was HILARIOUS–like hold onto your stool and try not to collapse FUNNY. He called me Weird Al, which was fair enough as I’m tall with long, curly brown hair. In true social media fashion we figured out afterward via Instagram that he was a heli guide living in Alaska. Although we extracted a few slivers of personal information during this chance encounter, such as that he was from New Hampshire, he never let it slip that he was a guide. As skiers who dream of a heli trip (well, not any more…maybe cat skiing…) to us he was one of those larger-than-life characters. One can imagine that an outdoors professional of his stature could easily be obscured by an “I’m amazing” fog of arrogance. The fact that he never said anything about it spoke volumes about who he must have been in “real life” (as that exchange at the bar was truly surreal). Thank you, Sean, for making our unforgettable trip even more singular. We only caught a glimpse of what your partner, family and friends must have gotten to experience more fully.

Dave | nobody


A hitchhiker’s welcome to AK

Hi all- I was in Girdwood visiting my friend Raina Hammel about a month ago, telling the story of how my best friend Cammy and I arrived at her 2011 wedding in Girdwood. We’d never been to Alaska and when we showed up at a rental car company and asked for a one-way rental to Girdwood the guy at the counter just laughed. He said he wouldn’t rent us a car one way but we were beautiful and he would draw us a map of where to go to start hitchhiking.
So we stuck our thumbs out and got one ride from a nervous mom who dropped us on the south end of town, and then we walked a while more, cars blowing by us. We had just called a friend to ask for a rescue when a truck pulled over. “Got a ride, see you later,” to the friend, and we jumped in to find the smiling, snot-caked bearded face of Sean, heading home after a Denali trip. Turned out Sean grew up where we went to college and our trust and delight was instant. We closed down Chair 5 that first night and when Sean invited us to raft 6 Mile the next day, we said yes without hesitation. We figured we’d be back in time for the rehearsal dinner no problem.

We didn’t know that a good time with Sean knows no linear progression, or about the lack of cell phone service in Alaska, or about how much we would love the town of Hope. We ended up spending the night on tent platforms with hopeful raft guides after another legendary sun-soaked night. We missed the rehearsal dinner and some of our friends were starting to wonder if they should be calling the cops. When we turned up the next day, healthy, happy, and deeply in love with Alaska, we were scolded and then got right back to having a good time.
In Girdwood last month, I told this story, and Raina told me Sean had died. I’d read about the accident, but so often the “experienced guides” are not named. I’m grateful I heard the news in Girdwood, the town where Sean welcomed me to Alaska. It took me nine years, but that welcome was unforgettable, and I finally did move here. I live in Kotzebue and am finishing my midwifery degree in Fairbanks and Anchorage. Cammy & I will be forever grateful for all the other drivers who passed us by so Sean could be the one to pick us up.

James + Cammy | 2011 Hitchhikers


Hope on a dare

I had only known Sean for a couple of years when I got the phone call. I was visiting home, at my parents house in VT, just an hour north from Sean’s hometown. I don’t remember the premise of the call but I know that at some point Sean put it out there, “Well, if you don’t know what you’re doing this fall why don’t you just move to Alaska and ski with me all winter.” It was his tone of voice that made it sound more like a dare than an offer and without hesitation I agreed. Ahhhh, to be in your mid twenties and make outlandish decisions at a moments notice.
I’ll spare you all the details but come November Sean and I piloted my old Subaru up the Cassiar Highway to the small town of Hope, where he had lined up some cabin rentals for the winter. We lived with an all star crew and skied every day we could. We cooked big breakfasts and bigger dinners. We made the occasional trip to Costco. We drank beer and played stump. And cribbage, so so much cribbage. We dug our friend out of a giant avalanche and learned lessons that we still carry with us today. Of that crew two are now gone and we hold our memories of them as close as we can.
Reading through others’ stories I smiled and cried and felt big feelings. It’s so clear that Sean was a man who wore his heart on his sleeve. He didn’t hide any part of himself from anyone. He was open, honest, loving and fun. He was a big man with a big personality and he touched so so many people throughout his life.
Thanks everyone for your stories and thank you for the opportunity to share mine. I love Sean and I love you all.

Sam Piper | Friend, ski partner, climbing partner, brother


Mountains, alcohol, and buttsex

Apologies for the title, but I think he would have wanted it this way. Sean was a wonderful human in general, but also a dedicated “slayer of gnar”…the latter is the version that I experienced the most.
I knew Sean for roughly 15yrs, and still remember meeting him outside of R1 resident housing at APU all those years ago. I remember thinking, “this big hippy is creeping on Caitlin”. She was a young and innocent-ish XC ski racer back then. She could be a pain in the ass in those days, but was cute enough that it somehow seemed endearing. Not much has changed in that department, and he loved the shit out of her for it all these years.
Although we were both college students, and eventually Denali guides…and Sean was an exceptional expedition athlete, we only did a handful of personal trips together. This photo is when we climbed Half Dome. As a team of 4 it made sense to split into pairs, so I linked up w their friend and began swapping leads while incessantly rambling about all things buttsex…all day (for no particular reason). Sean found it hilarious, and Caitlin found it mildly entertaining. However, their friend found it quite disturbing, and ultimately had somewhat of a mental breakdown at the end of the day, largely induced by my perverse humor. Sean and I laughed about that event for years, hahahaha!
The reality is that most of my time spent with Sean was via post-climb/ski, alcohol-fueled parties…and there were a lot of them! He loved to party, and always made everyone laugh and enjoy themselves. The last time I saw Sean in person was at their wedding the summer before last. He was soooo drunk. It was soooo fun! At one point, when he momentarily let his guard down, I pushed him in the lake, like we were kids. He climbed out laughing, fully clothed and drenched, expressed a huge smile…and congratulated me with a “well played, sir!”….and he meant it. That moment still makes me smile as I write this.
Very few people can say that they lived a life as full of adventure and pure, unwavering spirit as Sean did…and I find notable solace in that sentiment. He lived like most people only dream of. I’m looking forward to giving you a hug Caitlin, and sending love to all his family and friends, of which he had an abundance.

TIM HEWETTE | SECRET LOVER


One Week before One Year

A year ago, I did not know that I had one week left with Sean on this earth. It is good that I could not see the future, for that week proceeded routinely. I heard his happiness about completing the bulk of his winter work in Alaska and the pride he felt about Natural Selection and the recognition he received for it. I heard about the work he was considering for winter 2022. I heard about the upcoming start of Denali climbing season and his role there. I heard about his summer plans in Chile. I heard about how he was counting the minutes to get home to Caitlin and Ventura. “This will be an easy weekend, Mom. I have guided these guys before, nice guys, we get along, we like each other. Then I head home.” I heard about his hope of fitting in a surf vacation between jobs. I heard him ask, as he did in every phone call, if there is “any news” from Casey, Jared, Nina, Keith, aunts, uncles, cousins, “The Hanover Moms”, his NH friends. I heard him brainstorm about when we could be together, whether it should be west coast or east coast, how we have postponed so many celebrations throughout COVID that “The Fam should really go big”. The Fam did go big during October with A Gathering to Honor Sean and again in Nevis during November with toasts and thanks for each other and, most importantly, for Sean on his birthday. During that final phone call, I heard warm strong timbre and good health in his voice. I sat on the porch in the March sun, happy as we ended our call. I heard him say we would speak the following week and “I love you, Mom”. He heard me say “I love you, Sweet Boy.” We spoke love intentionally, not as a sing-song sign-off. It is good that I could not see the future. I would want nothing changed about that final phone call. I have long believed that is better to keep myself strong and centered and to just step up to meet whatever comes my way. Sounds like guiding, sounds like midwifing. Sean and I shared that. This time it was a helicopter crash. I enter this week with clear mind, open heart and strong legs under me. I thank my family, my friends and my community –you have stepped up right next to me, with our arms and hearts linked. Mom/Barb/Babs/Barbo

Barbara Fildes | Sean’s Mom


Taking that drop …

It has been around a year since I heard the tragic news of the helicopter crash and it and Sean are still with me. As I noted above, the next time I saw a drop I’d look up wink. Well, I did. The funny part of taking a drop is you can’t take a picture while doing it. So, I took pictures of my boys doing a few drops out in Telluride (Black Iron Bowl) which I’ve shared above.
The one on the left is my older son and the one on the right is my younger son and I am sure Sean is getting a big kick out of my looking up and winking as they took their drops.

Jeff Kerrigan | Friend of the Family